Temptation and Despair
by TwilightofElla
Summary: On a night in London an assasin prowls, driven by her need to please her superior, and her love for the kill; until she finds her target, a handsome young man who awakens something in her. Does she follow orders or her heart? What happens next? BXE AH
1. Temptation

My gate was purposeful through those gloomy streets of London in late November. My mind set on only one thing, the job ahead. My eyes trailed through the darkness, always watching, and my hearing so sensitive I could hear a pin drop. My leather boots were the only sounds other than the rain as I quickly paced through the deeper alleyways. My hair was down to hide my face and the deep brown tendrils danced around in the gentle wind.

The black body suit I was wearing was nylon and silent as I walked; a definite necessity. The black cloak I wore over it billowed behind me in my haste to get to my check point. As soon as I got the call, the mark, and the check point I was on the prowl and nothing would get in my way. Suddenly, to my left I heard the slightest noise. A shift of a boot on the dirty pavement, to me it sounded like a train horn. I kept my ease and kept pacing the same, I never hesitated, never walked faster. I acted as if I had not heard it. My hand twitched ever so slowly to my side but I had to wait. In my profession, patience is the virtue; if not, you died. So I kept moving and soon I heard a second set of footsteps matching mine step for step. This trailer was good but the footsteps were heavier and deeper; it was a male then and by the ever so slight scuffs I heard with each of his steps I could tell he was wearing heavy work boots.

My guess quickly became a mugger, an unintelligible bully. I smirked slightly to myself, my hand twitched just a little more. He wouldn't know what hit him. I was not only on the prowl now, I was hunting. I lifted up my arm to tuck my hair behind my ear and strained my eye to the left. I could now see his shadow moving on the wall behind me. I saw his arm move and a slight _shick_ was produced. Oh how wonderful; a pocket knife. Plans now popped in my head and I slowed as I bent down to fumble with the zipper of my knee high boot. I felt a slight shift behind me and then the would be attacker yanked roughly on my arm and threw me against the wall. He intended that to hurt. It didn't. That pocket knife was now at my throat and his scruffy, dirty face was inches from mine.

"Now I don't want to hurt you missy but give me your money or you'll be in the morgue by morning." He spit viciously at me.

My reaction was obviously not what he was planning for because I laughed a cold, malicious laugh. I became the hunter and my eyes reflected that and my mouth pulled up in a smirk.

"A simple Swiss army knife. Really? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised but in any case I am needed and I _don't _like my time wasted." Quicker than he could even register what I said I now allowed my hands to snatch at the double-edged Egyptian daggers that I had attached to my hips and forcefully shoved them through his chest. I heard his sternum crack and the rush of air out of his lungs as they collapsed. I saw the horrified realization on his face as the pain coursed through his body.

"Let this be a lesson. Hmm I'm going to have to clean these again. A pity, you've wasted more of my time." His eyes lolled and he fell backwards onto the pavement. I tugged on my daggers until they slid out of his chest. Blood welled from the two wounds and spread across his dark clothing. I cleaned the daggers on a piece of cloth in my cloak, I would burn it later.

I was blocks from my check point. I had gotten the call from my superior, who was only known to me as V, this afternoon. I was to be at the Savoy Hotels' ballroom where a gala was being hosted by the queen. The queen was not my target; it was an heir to an English Shipping Mogul. This kill was payment or payback whichever way you looked at it. I was told I would know him when I saw him. With V, everything was vague. I was not allowed to ask anything, I was supposed to know.

I rushed out of the alleyway and was met by scores of people in the streets. I could see the Savoy through all of them and black limos and SUVs were pulling up one after another in front of it. People lined the streets waiting for a glimpse of the queen or some other celebrity I didn't care to know. I stayed in the shadows of the buildings, easing around people and making sure my presence was not known. I scouted the outside of the building; there were at least two guards at every entrance and as my eyes went higher there were snipers stationed on the roof. I needed up there and fast, so I resolved to take them out as I went.

I ducked into a deserted parking lot and melted into the dark corner outside of a restaurant. From my vantage point I saw the sniper clearly and he was not paying attention. What was this idiot getting paid? He was large, and certainly looked the part but he stared down at the scenes below him; mesmerized like a juvenile. Even if he wasn't going to be a problem, I still didn't want distractions. I took out my Sig Sauer from the canvas satchel on my back, assembled it, and set up the scope, lining it up perfectly. His large face was perfectly center and my stomach clenched ever so slightly like it always did before a kill. I didn't understand what had me slated for a profession such as this. Perhaps my despicable childhood, perhaps my hidden need to really understand myself, who knows? Certainly not me. I only knew that in this moment, the moment before my finger gave the lightest of pressure and sent someone to their fate, I was calm and serene. Killing was my forte and I loved it. My trigger finger tingled ever so slightly and then I let go. The sound was minimal and with the number of people passing by only a hundred feet to my right I knew no one would hear. I had had enough training that I did not move when the rifle kicked back slightly. I didn't move my eye sight as a look of horror passed through my victim and then he slumped backward like I knew he would.

I took my scope away satisfied he was dead and scanned my surroundings. I put the scope to my eye once again, looking at each magnified guard in turn until I was satisfied my cover was not blown. Now came the fun part. I shot a hook through the top of the building and hooked up the carabineers to the cable and started my way up. Black was a necessity now, my intention was to blend into the night. I shimmied my way up steadily until I reached the roofs overhang. Pulling the wire loose and rolling it back up while abandoning my cloak, I ran across the roof to the door. I leaned in slightly and peered around the corner. No guards. I went down the little flight of stairs and started for the elevator down the hall. A portly old man and his young female escort came out of a door to my right and I gave them a fleeting glance. Enough to see their dumbfounded faces at what I was wearing. The young woman looked appalled as she was wearing a high end ball gown and expensive jewelry while I, on the other hand, had on something close to an action movie. Too bad. This was what V had all his assassins wear and I wasn't going to contradict him. I booked it to the elevator and hit level 5, the ballroom.

The music piping through was annoyingly cheerful and I rolled my eyes at nothing and got down to the work at hand. I had to try and fit in with these idiots I would be forced to mingle with so V had ever so graciously given me a gown. I pulled it out of my bag and hit the emergency stop button on the elevator. I unfolded and stared at the opposing garment in disbelief. So V liked to play games then. I hated gowns, anything that drew attention to myself and V had given me the most attention getting gown on the planet. It was wine red and the fabric gracefully crisscrossed down the bodice until it reached the intricately ruffled train. I dug around again and found black stilettos and an obscenely huge piece of jewelry that made even me, a person who despised the stuff, drop my jaw in amazement. It was made of diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds and was inlaid with white gold.

I couldn't gaze long and quickly threw on my ensemble. I grabbed the last thing, a large handbag, out of the small duffel and threw it to the corner, no need for it anymore. My boots went with it; I had one hundred other pairs at home. The handgun I carried always was strapped to my thigh, but my hand edged toward my throwing knives attached to the other as a way to dispose of the target. V told me to be quiet, to not draw attention to myself and to just get the job done. But what would be the fun in that? Had I not done enough over the past few weeks to earn myself a little leeway in the fun department? I had made 14 kills in the last 3 weeks which had to be a record for the agency so my theory today would be when in Rome, V be damned. I punched the emergency button again and the elevator jerked and continued its path downward.

Before it opened I shoved the parts of the Sig Sauer into the oversized clutch. I would assemble it again later. The elevator opened and I was met by the sound of an orchestra and the smell of the food of the rich. For me, being a loner, the amount of people I was met with was suffocating. Hordes of women thronged the room, each one of them staring at another, disdainfully appraising each other. Men stared unabashedly around the room at said women and the whole thing was so ego filled that I thought my head would explode. How could these people stand it? However this paled in comparison as to how I felt when that elevator opened and every eye near enough to watch me, was. Whispers followed as I mentally slapped myself to not look self conscience and I held my head up higher and walked with a walk that could only be described as sinful. I had no problem drawing in men, I just didn't want to. V's vague clues as to who this target was made it very hard to try and find this person so I snooped.

Every person in the room could have been the target and it was impossible for me to find them. As much as I hated it I met the eye of every man in the room; coaxing them in so that I could maybe discover my hidden target. I had men salivating and my skin was crawling after a while and my nerves were starting to fray. A waiter passed by and I all to willingly took a glass of merlot and swigged it. No need to deprive myself of alcohol when I was so literally fucked. I kept my cool however and wandered through the crowds. I was looked at and whispered at and envied at the whole way. For a half hour I wandered utterly stumped at how V expected me to do my job. I also was getting frustrated with the gown. The nylon suit under it sounded really good right about now. I took another swig of wine and realized that it was gone. Well just great. I'm sure my face showed disgruntlement and before I could get another I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

I turned quickly to tell the person to royally fuck off. However, I was met with the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His brown hair was in a wild disarray around his face. His skin was pure white, almost translucent. His eyes, well really what could I say. They were tawny gold and brown flecked. And they were so deep I could get lost in them if I didn't watch myself. His jaw was incredibly defined and his cheek bones were high up on his face. He looked quite dashing in his tuxedo and for a moment I was quite literally dazed. Something very foreign stirred inside me and I had no idea what it was. In one hand he held a glass of brandy. In the other, a full glass of white wine. Bless him.

"I thought you might need another of these. You seem quite stressed from my point of view." He said in flawless British. His smile pulled up slightly more on the left side of his face and then I cursed myself. Why in the hell was I internally commenting on his smile? Check that, perfect smile.

"Is it really that obvious?" I hedged. I was wary, I didn't think I would have to converse with guests.

"American? Interesting. But yes, it was obvious but only to a very acute eye. You carry yourself very well but I can tell when people are uncomfortable. But really back to you, you're American. Where are you from?" He stated matter-of-factly.

"Washington. D.C. " I said. I didn't want to get involved with this man but then I looked back into his golden depths of eyes and I felt like I was being pulled toward him.

"Are you in government?" He seemed eager that I kept up the conversation. Great.

"No actually. Contracting." I said vaguely. I actually was in contracting. Just privately.

"Like corporate contracting; building skyscrapers and such?" he questioned. That sounded good to me. I honestly didn't know what the hell I was talking about.

"Yes." I really never talked to men, I was to focused on my job. As this conversation lumbered on I became more and more careful. Strange things were weeding their way into my stomach and I wished to whatever God there was that this would end quickly and I could get back to my job. This man was strangely alluring.

He chuckled and gave me a strange look, "You know, you don't exactly look the type." He gave a very appraising look that made a strange jolt run up my spine.

"We just met, there are a lot of things you don't know about me." I said with a very small smile. He took this as encouragement and I honestly didn't know if this was a good thing or bad thing.

"Well then maybe we can change that. Come have a drink with me." He nodded his head towards the open bar.

"Sorry but it seems you have already set me up pretty nicely. Another time." I lifted my wine up slightly to show my point and turned around. As soon as his face was not facing mine, I missed it. How strange.

"Wait! I don't even know your name!" He called trying to fight his way towards me through the crowd as I edged toward the stairs. I needed a better vantage point and as I glanced at the large clock above the orchestra I realized how late it was getting. I needed to get this done.

Fighting the urge to punch him to shut him up I took a calm breath, heavily ladened my persona with charm and I turned back to him and smiled. "Find out." And with that I slipped through the crowd and disappeared from his view. I couldn't believe how twisted he made me feel. I was so confused around him and my instincts told me to run; but I wanted to be near him.

I flanked the stairs and headed up. I looked out on the scene before me from behind a heavy curtain. No one was up on the second floor and the vantage point was a good one. The room was dominated by a huge wood floor which was completely covered in couples waltzing gracefully (and ungracefully) around it. The surrounding area was covered by round tables with intricate place settings. If I had been inclined to go to a party this would be it if I ever saw one. I scanned faces for expressions, clothes for anything sinister concealed, and anything else I could think of that might draw out my elusive target from the dizzying array of people dotting the room. For an hour I tried to no avail and gave a quiet sigh of disgruntlement. A lot of the time my eyes were drawn back to the dark haired man that was so interesting. I had wanted this job to go quickly and I was slowly running out of patience. However as soon as I thought of the ridiculous notion of just killing the whole room, my cell phone buzzed. I quickly flipped it open and found the answer I was looking for.

_Target at table 12, right side of ballroom, don't fail me on this._

_V_

I rolled my eyes slightly. Before every kill V always said to me "don't fail me on this." After 2 years I had yet to fail him and yet he still made the point to say that. Closing my phone I turned to the right side and took out my scope and flitted it across the tables until I finally found 12. 7 people were settled around it. None looked anything at all like my usual targets. A Dean Martin type man and his wife were sitting towards me along with a fat balding gentleman and his aging wife. A young boy sat next to his father their backs facing me and a woman sat next to them. She oozed the term gold digger. Fake hair, fake nails, fake boobs, fake eyelashes and probably an enhanced body squeezed into a disgustingly skin tight dress that made her more whorish than elegant. Still, the men at the table seemed pleased enough next to her, or maybe the amount of cleavage protruding from her chest. Disgusting.

I realized the seat next to her was empty and half a glass of amber liquid was on the table in front of it. Someone must have said something because the girl turned as if her name had been called and searched until she locked eyes with someone and smiled. From the crowd came what I only could have guessed to be the target. A tall and devilishly handsome man weaved through the crowd to his date and picked up her hand. As I looked at his unruly mess of brown hair and his slightly askew smile I realized exactly who it was. Something changed inside me. My chest tugged in a strange way and it felt as if the universe shifted ever so slightly towards him. My breath blew out so fast I couldn't catch it so I stared at him unable to breathe or think or do anything at all.

_What the FUCK just happened to me?_ I thought. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and stared blankly into space confused by my now warring emotions. I did not want to kill this man for fun. Hell it hurt me to even think about killing my alcoholic savior. This had to be the target; I just had a gut feeling. But I could not understand the emotions flowing through me at that moment. I should have no problem now knowing he was the target, I just had to go through with it. But what was this strange pulling to him, the strange need to know his name, and who he was. I fought with the urge to know who had a vendetta against this, dare I say it, God of a man and then the urge to not give a fuck. But my well taught instinct won over my confusing new emotions and I took out my rifle from my bag and set it and the scope up. His face filled the small device and I lined it up longer than usual just to watch him spin the fake-ass woman around the room. Another confusing emotion flared up as I thought who she was to deserve such a perfect man but then my finger again was directed toward the trigger and the world slowed to an almost stop. All I saw was the task ahead and my finger inched slowly toward fate.

But then, for the first time since I had held my first gun, I hesitated. These new emotions crushed me, whispering to me to not do it, to let him go. But then V's voice came through my thoughts saying "don't fail me on this." And I knew I wouldn't. For the first time ever I closed my eyes and shot. I heard the bullet leave the rifle and my eyes flew open. Everything happened so slowly. I watched agonizingly as the bullet traveled faster and faster towards his smiling face just as he looked up toward me, as if he knew what I had done. And I watched as that smile turned to pain and then to realization at who had done it, and I could not bear to watch any more. I shut my eyes tight for 1 second before the piercing scream of his date rang out across the walls, and then…all hell broke loose.

"Help me! God help me!" She screamed and every guard turned towards where the shot came from. I turned and bolted. Screams erupted as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place for the patrons and they realized what had happened. Before I left through an emergency exit, the security running up the stairs after me, closing in, I looked back at the scene I had created and to the blank lifeless face of the man that had lighted something inside me, and a single lone tear slipped down my face as I finally realized what I was. A fucking monster. However I couldn't dwell on this because I had 12 burly men coming straight towards me, aiming their guns. I shut the door as the shots rang out around me. Idiots. They didn't know how to aim. I kicked off my ridiculous heels and booked it down the hall. I turned a corner at the same time I ripped the priceless dress off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. I felt no guilt. Before I could get to the door to the outside another pile of guards came crashing around the corner and I had to change my plans, and fast. Rows of windows stood floor to ceiling to my right and looked out into a garden. My options were limited. There was no other choice.

With a deep breath and a tremendous amount of strength I charged through a window, my feet still running even with nothing under them. The sensation of dropping was not a pleasant one and I was grateful I had highly tuned reflexes that I could grab my hook from my hip and shoot it into a tree. It caught thankfully and I swung, almost Indiana Jones style, towards the ground and slammed into the grass feet firmly planted. A normal person's ankles would have shattered if they did that. I gave the hook a swift pull as a bullet smacked into the ground by my foot. The hook gave way and I took off, bare feet and all into the grounds. There was a bush and then a side street and I ran faster and hurdled the hedge and ran and ran and ran; through alleys, through busy streets, past cafes, and past storefronts until I got to my one safe haven.

An archway was hung gracefully with bright green vines that were littered with pretty white flowers. As I caught my breath walking through to get to the garden the dread at what I had done seeped back into my thoughts. I killed someone I was almost positive I had connected with. I was finally forced to realize who I truly was. I reached the back of the garden and it was really breathtaking. I couldn't hear car horns or sirens or people back here. All I could hear was the sounds of growth from the flowers and plants and grasses around me. It reminded me of what I was not. They were flourishing while I stayed stationary in this job, in this life. I thought back again to the perfect man and I became increasingly angry. Who was he to make me rethink who I was, or really think it at all? Who was he to waltz in and alter the way I thought? Who was he to spark something inside me, to make me yearn? He was nobody! Or was I the nobody? It was just too much and the brick wall I leaned on seemed like a good enough object to take out my anger on. I swiveled on my cold toes and slammed my fist into the wall. My middle knuckle snapped and I knew I broke it.

"SHIT! Shit! Ow, ugh! I yelled. I mentally chastised myself. What the hell had that done? Absolutely nothing at all, that's what. I cradled my now swelling hand and sunk slowly to the ground, all the while thinking that same word over and over. Monster.


	2. Boredom

I had returned home after awhile a little worse for wear. My flat on the edge of London gave me little comfort as I slipped into the door way quietly holding my broken hand carefully. It was a stupid decision to punch that wall; I had known the instant after I had done it. I knew it could jeopardize my missions if I had any coming up soon. Though it was doubtful because while I was on my way back from the Savoy I received another message from V.

_Job well done Isabella, job well done. You have yet again made our organization a powerhouse. Your bonus will be known shortly, a substantial pay raise I might add. Don't expect me to call you soon. You've accomplished enough jobs this month. _

I had sighed in relief as I read the last sentence. After last night I was exhausted and weary and feeling so many new emotions that I couldn't see straight. I gratefully turned on the lights as I entered the flat and closed the blinds. My apartment was a step back in time. I had antique everything, from my tables to my chairs. The floor plan was expansive and open, with nooks set up around the walls. As I walked into the flat I was met with the warm glow of the lights on the end tables to my right. The wood was inlaid with some sort of floral rosette and in-between sat an enormous plush, burgundy leather sofa. The stitching was gold as was the ornate designs on the burgundy curtains and on the wall borders.

A soft brown coated the walls themselves but there was little space to find it because almost every single wall in the entire great room was covered in bookshelves that were filled floor to ceiling. Over years of travel and a need to study I had amassed a serious collection from art to microbiology and everything in-between. The parquet floor was almost completely hidden by a giant ornate rug. From what I had figured out it had come from Arabia or some other Middle Eastern country and held scenes of the crusades and pilgrimages and all other kinds of Middle Eastern history. Paintings hung around the walls, most dark and brooding; my particular favorite was Manet, who favored black. A coffee table sat on top of the rug and was filled with information on more missions, other assassins, mercenaries, and any other thing essential to my job. A small TV and stereo sat adjacent to the sofa. Dust had collected on the screens; I hadn't been back for any amount of time in awhile.

I made my way to the substantially sized kitchen, with its black granite countertops and maroon stained cherry cabinets. The refrigerator was to my left and I opened the freezer to find some ice. I grabbed a spare towel with my good hand and wrapped a fair amount of cubes in and gingerly set it on my swollen knuckle. On a second inspection I found I could move it a bit and decided it wasn't in fact broken, only badly sprained. I sat on one of the three barstools facing the small island as I grabbed some brandy from the top cabinet. I sat quietly for awhile, letting the sounds of the light rain as it hit the roof quietly lull me in a semi-trance of engrossing thoughts.

I wondered at what I had felt earlier in the night. I questioned my hesitation, something that had never happened before. I had been in the company of many handsome men; I had had many bedroom partners in the past; an unfortunate necessity to get to my target without being noticed. I was never really proud of those but it was something I always had to do. I never thought twice about it before. I never looked at a man twice I never kept thinking back to them and I never…never had regretted a kill. Why then was I feeling this way about one now? Could it be a mistake? But, the feeling that was grasping my stomach from within and twisting it and kneading it into a jumbled mess couldn't really be anything else.

I shook my head fiercely as I tried to clear my thoughts and think to any other subject. It didn't work and my mind kept drifting and wandering back to the shocked expression of the handsome man's face. In my mind's eye I accelerated faster and faster and closer and closer to his eyes that were forever engraved into my head, until I was suddenly engulfed into an endless pool of golden tawny warmth. And soon the beautiful, absorbing light began to fade, like his life, and I was dropped; flailing and out of control down into the black, lifeless pit.

I jolted awake from my daydream as my sprained hand slammed onto the countertop. Pain shot straight up through my arm as I whipped it away, hissing, and cradled it to my side. I dropped the rest of the contents of the brandy glass into the sink, my mind was cloudy enough, and made my way slowly to my bathroom and to where I had stored my first-aid kit. The kit made a regular one look like a box of band-aids. The first aid was a shelving unit that took up a good portion of the southern wall in the bathroom and looked more like a mobile hospital than anything else. I scrounged around the various assortment of equipment before I found a wrap cast that I swiftly secured on my hand. I then ducked into the adjoining hall to my expansive bedroom.

The antique four-poster bed had elegant dark blue gauze wrapped around the corners and floated down to brush gently on the floor. The slate gray comforter and walls were lit with the moonlight that was streaming in from the floor to ceiling glass pane windows. Missile proof, in fact, to ensure my safety from any of my many enemies I had made over the years. The two walls that were not glass held many black and white photos, many of cities I had been to, some I wanted to go to. As I stared at those photos I saw that each held a murder, or even multiple murders, and that weighed suddenly on my shoulders. But I quickly looked away, disgusted with my waning tough interior, and exhausted with analyzing the night's events. I slid into the bed, right to the middle and closed my eyes ready for sleep to grab hold of me. I eased my injured hand under the pillow and shifted sideways as I breathed out deeply and evenly. Soon I was enveloped in black.

A week had passed since the gala and I was quickly becoming deranged. It was not from the man, but rather from the boredom. V had not called or made any contact. In fact the only form of contact I had had was the substantial commission put into my bank account. I was slightly shocked when I opened my account online and found an extra three million dollars moved into it. The person who payed off V and the company must have really wanted that man dead. I shook my head to get rid of the thought. Over the week I had learned to push my victim to the back of my mind and hide it. It kept popping back up but it was easier to deal with it.

I decided that instead of being walled up in my flat with Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Charles Darwin, I would don one of my very few non-work outfits and brave the streets. I pulled on a navy blue cardigan and some tight jeans that I tucked into brown leather boots. I wrapped a scarf around my neck against the chilly fall air. As always I tucked a blade into my ankle strap, three throwing stars into a strap of my forearm and a .45 caliber into my waistband. I dabbed on very minimal makeup to look somewhat normal in the "real world" and headed out the door.

I took the Tube to Covent Garden, an area well known for specialty shops and antique galleries. I got off with a bustle of people, keeping to myself with my head down and stuck to the walls. My nerves were at a hyper attention and my human claustrophobia set in as I weaved my way through the crowds up the stairs and finally onto the street. The crowd thinned their as most went to the well known stores on the farther end of the street as I made my way up into the lesser known parts. Small and quaint shops lined the street and I stood in the middle deciding where I should head. I had no particular wish to go anywhere but the feeling of standing out in the open with no cover was making me nervous too.

Eventually I looked down the street a ways and spotted an old, shabby looking book store that held my interest for more than two seconds and decided that it was a good a place as any to start. I opened the shop door and a small bell rang. A gruff looking older man popped his head out from behind a newspaper at the desk and gave me a slight nod. I did not return it. Instead I started for the back, eventually wanting to make my way to the front. To my surprise I found that the store carried many out of print, and first edition books. Some were signed, a collection I liked to keep, some were so old the pages were yellowed and smelled of must. This was one of my favorite places in my life. I could browse shelves endlessly, with no other people, no prodding or selling or anything of the sort. I was left to myself and I grasped a sense of calm in there.

I had picked up a first edition of Pride and Prejudice, intending to purchase it when, from the corner of my eye I spotted something black and white move past a book shelf. Curious, I followed and edged myself around the case. I looked into the next aisle and…nothing. Not even a rolling dust bunny. I found that strange, however I went back to the book and picked it up and headed off to the register. The old man shifted in his chair as he got up to ring me up and it squeaked loudly. He grunted as he walked to the counter as I sat my book down on the table. He looked at it and then up to me with a slight quirk to his mouth. But thankfully he didn't talk, maybe good intuition on his part, and rang me up.

"567 dollars." He said swiftly.

I knew this would be a fair price. First editions of any Jane Austen tended to run high. My black credit card was handed to the man and he looked at it appraisingly before quickly swiping it and handing it back to me. As he passed my bag across the counter I saw another flash of black and white. I twisted fast ready to catch whatever it was but again it seemed my eyes had played tricks on me. All I saw was some dust swirling in the ray of sunlight coming through the door. No black or white anything. I was starting to worry a bit. The cashier gave me a speculative eye before he tapped my bag again and returned to his paper. I stood staring for a second more before I rushed out the front of the store.

As I walked back down the street to the Subway I saw another flash. I started walking faster. _This can't be anything at all _I thought to myself _it's just my peripheral vision. I'm just tired._ But I knew that was a lie the moment I thought it. I had highly honed peripheral vision that had not once deceived me. I quickly hustled into the train with the scores of other people and found a seat for the short ride back to my apartment. I stared at the ground, inwardly daring the black and white flash to appear again. No sooner had I thought it than I noticed it again to my right. Instead of staring at it directly I took a different approach and watched it out of the corner of my eye as it moved slowly towards me. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I looked up quickly to find it but again, it had dematerialized.

I sat back and huffed giving the teenage boy ogling me across the seats a hard glare. He looked anywhere but me for the rest of the ride. Finally my stop was announced and I hurried off, quick to get into the safety of the flat. My flat was only 8 blocks or so from the station and I hurried back at less than normal speed. I wasn't running but I was damn close to it.

I scaled the stairs of the building, knowing I would not meet a soul. My twenty story high building had a nice enough elevator and no one used the stairs which was exactly why the twenty story climb was one I took every day. I finally reached the top floor and flung my keys into the lock and pushed open the door. I slammed it with some force and rested my face against the cool wood. I relaxed monumentally as the door shut and turned to face my apartment. I was met with a pair of golden tawny eyes.

"JESUS CHRIST!"


End file.
